


Something Sweet

by Sotheylived



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5561368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sotheylived/pseuds/Sotheylived
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where the judge takes pity on Emma and instead of jail time she gets sentenced to community service at a hospital where Killian just so happens to be a patient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven’t written basically since I started my new job - so this is me trying to get back on the horse and by posting the first part it will force me to finish it. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Emma  swallowed thickly, attempting to control the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her as she spoon fed a patient on her third day of court mandated community service, three down - two hundred and seven left she thought morosely. A particularly strong whiff of the pungent fish soup blew her way and she felt bile rise up into her throat. The spoon fell to the plate with a clatter as she leapt up from her seat and sped to the bathroom. She didn't bother closing the stall door, she just slammed down to her knees as the meager contents of her stomach made a reappearance. Still better than jail she thought to herself bitterly as she rinsed her mouth out in the sink. 

A moment later the hospital's volunteer supervisor walked in, a sweet motherly woman who treated Emma with more kindness than she felt comfortable with -  if she was being honest. Emma flinched slightly when Mary Margaret's hand landed on her shoulder, but Mary Margaret ignored it and patted Emma reassuringly. 

"That fish soup can make even the strongest stomach roll,” Mary Margaret said with a soft smile, “maybe we should give you a different assignment, hmm?" 

Emma nodded and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, shrugging away from the woman's touch. 

"I have just the thing," Mary Margaret said, walking briskly down the hall. 

Emma followed along, swallowing thickly to try to get the taste of bile out of her mouth. A moment later a mint was pressed into her hand. Emma looked up at Mary Margaret startled and nodded her thanks before pealing off the wrapper and popping the candy into her mouth. 

"I had the worst morning sickness ever when I was pregnant." Mary Margaret said in answer to a question Emma hadn't asked. "I took to keeping a bunch of those mints in my pocket, it's just habit now I guess." She shrugged and turned down a quiet corridor and through the double doors into the hospital's long term stay ward. 

Mary Margaret led her to the communal space set up as a cross between a living room and a cafeteria. There were about seven elderly people scattered throughout the room. Four people were playing a card game that Emma didn't recognize while the other three were in front of the television, one man was asleep in his wheelchair with his head tilted so far to the side Emma thought it might fall off. While it at least didn't smell of food, that powdery old person smell permeated the room. Emma scrunched up her nose but said nothing as Mary Margaret walked around greeting the people in the room with Emma trailing after her like some lost puppy. 

"Everyone in this ward is here long term," Mary Margaret explained, leading Emma out of the main gathering space and into the hallways that contained the bedrooms. "For most patients it is a nursing home and they probably won't ever live on their own again - which can be depressing for people who have been independent their whole lives. So your job is to keep them company, play games with them - hold their yarn while they knit, sometimes they'll ask you to fetch things for them, the nurses may ask for assistance doing some tasks like making the beds and -" 

"You don't have to baby me," Emma said, resenting the implication that she couldn't do it. She already was getting special treatment by the court by being sentenced to community service in the first place, let alone community service inside a nice heated hospital as opposed to picking up trash on the side of the road or jail time. Not that she didn't appreciate it, but still - she felt weird about being given special treatment - she was never given it before and she didn't really know how to handle it. "I don't deserve special treatment - this is supposed to be my punishment." 

Mary Margaret had stopped walking and was looking at her in surprise, likely because Emma hadn't said more than five words since she'd start 'volunteering' at the hospital three days ago. 

"You're right Emma you don't deserve this," Mary Margaret said, and Emma wasn't surprised - but better to have this happen now than later. "You should be in college, you should be pursuing your dreams" Emma looked up at her in surprise, "not holed up alone in some hospital." Emma flinched at the word alone but maintained the woman's gaze. "You deserve so much more and just because life dealt you a crappy hand doesn't mean that I can't try to make it just a little better." 

_Who was this woman?_ Emma wondered not really believing Mary Margaret’s words, but still it was a nice sentiment. 

"Now," Mary Margaret said shaking off the sadness that had crept onto her pretty face, "I think I know the perfect place for you to begin." 

Mary Margaret walked up to one of the only doors closed in the entire hallway. She knocked on the door lightly, a half-hearted shout of go away was the only response. There was a beat of silence then the accented voice spoke again, saying "unless you've brought rum.”  

Mary Margaret sighed and pushed open the door with Emma on her heels. A man no more than five years older than Emma sat in the bed - but since she was never going to notice men ever again after Neal's abandonment she didn't notice his eyes or his scruff, or his black leather pants and she definitely didn't notice the deep v in his shirt that exposed a dark trail of hair. 

"Killian," Mary Margaret said, walking further into the room and ushering Emma to do so as well. "This is Emma Swan, she's volunteering with us and will be keeping you company today." 

Killian's gaze flicked to Emma and he smiled. "Wow someone else in this place less than three hundred years old - what a miracle." 

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes at him good naturedly and turned to Emma. "Just keep him company for a while then feel free to talk with the other people in this ward - let me or one of the nurses know if you need anything." She patted Emma's shoulder as she turned to go and Emma was proud of herself when the flinch was slightly less noticeable than the first time. 

"Please have a seat lass," Killian said gesturing to the only chair in the room. 

"I thought you didn't want visitors," Emma said because she was really good at this whole hold a pleasant conversation with a stranger thing. 

He shrugged nonplussed by her bluntness. Even with his face bruised, cut and a little bit battered, Emma had to admit he wasn't horrible to look at and she wouldn't mind getting off her feet for a little bit. She plopped down in the chair across from him and immediately pulled her right shoe off to rub at the cramp in her arch. 

He winced slightly as he shifted in the bed to sit more upright. "So who is forcing you to be here?" he asked conversationally. 

She whipped her head up to look at him. 

"Oh don't look so surprised love," he said, "you have got the look of someone who'd rather be anywhere but here." 

"What makes you think that?" she asked cagily. 

He tilted his head and smirked then pointed at himself, "it's easy enough to recognize a look you see everyday in the mirror - even if it is on someone else."   
Emma didn't acknowledge his comment as she slipped her shoe back onto her foot. 

"Just like I can recognize that other look of yours,"  He continued conversationally, "the look you get when you've been left alone." 

Emma stood abruptly, chair scraping against the linoleum as she did so. "Well, not that this hasn't been fun," she said and walked out of the room without a backwards glance. 

"Wait, love." he said just a little bit frantically, "Emma, I'm sorry come on."  

She ignored him and walked down the hall fuming. She heard movement coming from his room and suspected he was trying to follow her out to stop her so she ducked into a room as she was passing it and closed the door as quietly as possible behind her. She stood with her ear pressed to the door for a few moments before she heard one of the nurses ushering Killian back to his bed. Emma sighed in relief and put her hand on the door handle when a voice behind her made her jump. 

"So who are you hiding from?" Emma whipped around to face an elderly woman sitting in a chair across the room. She was knitting something and her gaze did not stray from the needles in her hand as she spoke. 

Emma stayed frozen by the door, she hated how skittish she was and if it weren't for the court mandate forcing her to be here, she would've been on the road to a new city the moment she met Mary Margaret - who seemed to _care_ about her - because people caring for her only led to her getting her hopes up and having her heart broken. 

"Oh don't worry girl," the woman said, shifting back and forth in her chair a bit as though expecting it to be a rocker. "I'm not going to tell on you. Truth of it is I'm hiding too. No one out there is exactly what I'd call sharp witted anymore and the moment I leave my room I'm forced to join some mind numbing activity."  
  
A brief flicker of a smile flitted across Emma's face - now this was someone with just enough bitterness to not make Emma feel uncomfortable. She walked across the room over to the woman and held out her hand. 

"I'm Emma," she said and the woman looked away from her knitting finally. She harumphed and plucked yarn out of the basket plopping it down in Emma's outstretched hand. 

"Granny," she said as an introduction, "now make yourself useful and wind that yarn would you?"   
  
Emma nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed since Granny was taking up the only chair in the room. She started to twist the yarn and realized she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. 

She cleared her throat and held out her hands, which were now rather tangled in yarn, out to Granny, "erm, how do you..." 

Granny took the yarn from Emma and showed her how to do it before throwing it back to her. They worked together for a few moments in silence and just as Emma was thinking that if she could avoid Killian and hole herself up with this woman for the rest of her community service it wouldn't be the end of the world when Granny spoke. 

"Don't think I'm going to let you get away without telling me who you are hiding from either darling."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn’t mention this before but this is kind of loosely based on my experiences as a candy striper (forever ago) where there was indeed a 20 something year old man in the nursing home because of a motorcycle accident - I wasn't pregnant or there because a court mandated it, but still. Anyway thanks for reading and any feedback is always appreciated!

The rest of that week and the one following it passed by without much incident. Emma arrived at the hospital first thing in the morning, checked in with Mary Margaret who immediately sent her to the long term stay ward where she’d go straight to room 104 and help Granny with whatever she was doing. The weekends she spent looking for work - without much success. She was sleeping in her bug, but at least Neal abandoned that when he abandoned her. 

It was Sunday night and Emma was curled up in the backseat of the Bug with her jacket draped across her body as a blanket parked about three blocks from the hospital - close enough that she would be on time in the morning, but far enough away that she shouldn’t be seen by anyone she knew leaving.

She was just dozing off when a light tap on the window startled her awake. Emma’s stomach clenched as she noticed Mary Margaret and one of the nurses from the hospital standing at the passenger side door. Their faces were drowned out in the shadow of the streetlamp for which Emma was grateful. If she hadn’t twitched so obviously upon waking she’d have tried pretending she was still asleep, but alas she wasn’t so lucky. 

She sat up and scrambled over to the door, choosing to open it instead of fight with the window crank that only worked half the time. Nonchalance she decided was her best bet as she stepped out of the vehicle and surreptitiously wiped her mouth of any lingering drool. 

“Hey guys,” she said with false cheer. “What’re you doing here?" 

"Emma,” Mary Margaret said with far too much concern. “How long have you been sleeping in your car?" 

"About an hour or so,” Emma said, picking at the hem of her shirt before pulling it down over her barely there bump. 

Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms waiting for a real answer. Emma shrugged in response, unwilling to admit that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence for her - and admitting it to this perfect woman with her picture perfect life was not something she wanted to do. The man with Mary Margaret hadn’t spoken yet but Emma could feel his gaze on her. 

“You can’t sleep in your car Emma,” Mary Margaret said with a glance at the man beside her. 

“Well unless you expect me to sleep on the sidewalk, Mary Margaret,” Emma spat, lashing out to cover the flush of embarrassment she felt at being caught homeless, “I’ll be sleeping in my car.” Emma turned to go back into the back seat hoping Mary Margaret and the nurse would leave her in peace. 

Mary Margaret caught her arm and Emma twisted quickly out of the grip but stayed standing outside of the bug. “Emma,” Mary Margaret said with her hands held up in front of her as if Emma was a skittish animal. “What I meant to say was you don’t have to sleep in your car - we’ve got a spare room," 

From the way Mary Margaret’s face fell Emma knew her answer was written plain on her face. The man stepped forward next to Mary Margaret and smiled reassuringly. "I’m David Nolan, Mary Margaret’s husband” he held out his hand to shake. 

Emma stared at the outstretched hand for a long moment before taking it warily. His callused palm was warm and sure around hers, “it’s too cold out to sleep in your car tonight,” he said, “come stay with us - just for tonight." 

Emma looked between him and Mary Margaret warily, "just for tonight?” she asked. David held her gaze and nodded once. 

He held Emma’s gaze and for some stupid reason she found herself nodding, “okay,” Emma acquiesced, reaching into the bug to slip on her jacket. 

Emma followed them the short walk to their loft and paid attention to the route as she went so that she could be sure to park far enough out of their way the following night. Mary Margaret gave Emma a tour of the space and told her she was welcome to anything and if she couldn’t find something to ask them. But Emma was so exhausted and she hadn’t slept in a real bed in so long that she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. 

She woke up the following morning and for one panic induced moment she couldn’t remember where she was. Then it all came back to her and she groaned into her pillow at her own stupidity at getting caught sleeping in her car. She heard voices and footsteps downstairs and decided to face the music sooner rather than later. 

She wasn’t sure what she expected when she walked downstairs, but David humming in the kitchen making pancakes with Mary Margaret at the stove with a kettle certainly wasn’t it. They didn’t notice her at first and Emma watched as David flipped a pancake up in the air. He almost missed it but caught it at the last second, broad smile stretching across his face as he turned to show Mary Margaret. The woman smiled in return and stretched up on her toes to place a kiss on the tip of his nose.  

It sent a wave of emotion through Emma as she watched the scene, reminding her of this foster home she’d been in as a teen - one of the rare good ones - the one that had hurt the most to leave - the one that got her hopes up, the one that she ended up regretting the most. Emma groaned internally and mentally shook herself, this wasn’t a foster home - it was a place she crashed the night and there was no use thinking it was anything else. She cleared her throat and walked into the kitchen making her presence known. 

“Emma!” Mary Margaret said, face lighting up as she spotted Emma walk into the kitchen. “Good morning! How’d you sleep? Were there enough blankets for you?" 

"Don’t scare the poor girl Mary Margaret,” David said putting a hand on his wife’s shoulder. Emma fought a smile and nodded her thanks to David. “Here have a seat Emma,” David gestured to a bar stool tucked under the kitchen island. Emma sat down and felt distinctly uncomfortable, as though she was intruding in their home. 

“Actually,” Emma said, standing, “maybe I should get going - I have to be at the hospital soon." 

"Nonsense,” Mary Margaret said, placing a mug in front of the stool and filling it with hot chocolate from the kettle she’d been tending. “You’ll do no such thing. David and I need to go to the hospital too; you might as well join us for breakfast first." 

Emma’s stomach grumbled hungrily at the thought of a warm meal aside from the lunches provided for volunteers at the hospital and she sat back down. The breakfast was delicious and she ate far too much and too fast and before she knew it she felt bile rise to her throat. She stood up too fast, upending her chair as she sprinted to the bathroom where she threw up the entire contents of her stomach and then some. Once she was done and rinsing her mouth out in the sink she heard a timid knock at the door. 

Emma turned to dry her hands quickly and held in a groan as she opened the door. She smiled as though she hadn’t just thrown up her entire breakfast and told Mary Margaret that the bathroom was all hers. Without a word in response Mary Margaret took her hand and led her to the couch. She sat and pulled Emma down next to her while David cleaned up the kitchen and pretended he wasn’t listening, though the distinct lack of noise coming from the kitchen gave him away.

 "How far along are you?” Mary Margaret asked softly. 

Emma shook her head, “I’m not - ” she began to say but stopped at Mary Margaret’s pointed look, “I’m not sure, about seven weeks maybe,” she said in a small voice. 

Mary Margaret nodded, “are you eating enough?” she asked kindly. 

“When I’m not throwing it up,” Emma said trying to joke, but Mary Margaret (and David) didn’t acknowledge it. 

“And the father?” Mary Margaret asked cautiously. 

Just the mere mention of Neal caused Emma’s stomach to roll painfully, anger and betrayal making it almost difficult to breathe. She shook her head. 

“What kind of man –” David began to shout from the kitchen before Mary Margaret cut him off. 

"David,” she said curtly, “Now is not the time." 

He harrumphed and gave up the pretense of cleaning the kitchen to join them in the living room. 

"Emma please stay with us, at least until you find somewhere other than your car to sleep.” Mary Margaret said. 

At the sincerity in Mary Margaret’s voice Emma looked up and to the surprise of everyone in the room, including herself, she nodded. 

* * *

The walk to the hospital wasn’t as awkward as Emma expected - at least not until Mary Margaret asked about how Killian was doing. Rather than explain that she hid out in an elderly woman’s room for the last two weeks from a patient who was immobile, Emma found herself lying. But either Mary Margaret was just as good as Emma spotting a lie, or Karma was getting back at her because after they said goodbye to David, Mary Margaret walked Emma all the way to the long term ward and couldn’t be swayed otherwise. 

They visited with a couple patients Emma had spent some time with and a few that she didn’t know before going to Granny’s room. And of course, of course the old woman had to go and sell her out - and judging by the mischievous glint in her eye, she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Oh you know Emma well?” Mary Margaret asked happily, smiling between the two of them. 

“Yes, very well.” Granny said, folding the corner of a page in the book she was reading. “She comes and visits me for  _hours_  every day, if I didn’t know better I’d say she was hiding from someone." 

_Traitor_  Emma thought mutinously, glaring at the woman who only smiled in response. 

Mary Margaret turned to Emma with a sigh. "Did Killian put his foot in his mouth again?" 

Emma hoped that nodding would mean that she wouldn’t be forced to see him again. But apparently that was the wrong choice since Mary Margaret grabbed Emma’s hand and led her back towards Killian’s room. "He is always doing this - it’s as if he wants his stay here to be as unpleasant as possible,” Mary Margaret grumbled as they approached his room. 

Mary Margaret knocked once and pushed open the door without waiting for a response. “Killian what did you do –" 

"Swan!” Killian said, and his entire face lit up as he spotted her. He shifted, trying to get out of his bed before Mary Margaret caught him and pushed him back down. 

“Killian, you know you aren’t supposed to get up unless supervised by a physical therapist while your legs are still setting.”

Killian nodded at Mary Margaret not even looking remotely chastised. “Swan why please, take a seat." 

Mary Margaret nodded at Emma, and since she didn’t seem to have much of a choice Emma plopped down in the same chair as before. "Now Killian, if you could refrain from sticking your foot in your mouth again, maybe Emma would visit with a little bit more regularity.” He at least had the decency to look somewhat apologetic as he glanced up at Mary Margaret. “Emma don’t let his appearance fool you - he’s lonely here and could use a friend if you’re willing.” Killian interrupted with a scoff, but Mary Margaret continued on unperturbed, “I’m headed to go check on the other volunteers, holler if you need anything." 

The door swung shut upon Mary Margaret’s exit with a thud, and then there was silence. Killian fiddled with the rings on his right hand and that’s when Emma noticed his left arm was heavily bandaged at the end and seemed too short, like he was missing at least part of the hand. She quickly looked away hoping he hadn’t noticed her stare. 

"I’m sorry lass,” he said ducking his head, “I shouldn’t have pried. If you wanted to tell me you would have, how about we start over? I’m Killian Jones." 

Emma didn’t say anything and he looked at her encouragingly, "and you are?" 

"You already know my name,” she said stubbornly. 

“Nope, can’t say that I do love,” he smiled playfully at her and she could tell that beneath the cuts half healed and yellowed bruises that he was actually really quite handsome. 

Emma rolled her eyes. “It’s Emma Swan,” she said humoring him. 

“So Swan,” he said, “do you know how to play dice?" 

Somehow Emma ended up playing the game in his room for almost an hour without even realizing. She’d also lost nearly all her cotton balls - there weren’t exactly many bet worthy items in the room. After losing for the tenth time in a row Emma scowled at him. "You’re cheating,” she said accusingly, “there’s no way you’re that good - even if this is the first time I’m playing.“ 

He picked up the dice and rolled them with a smirk, winning the last of Emma’s cotton balls. "Loaded dice,” he said with a smile, pocketing the offending items. 

“What? That really is cheating!”

“Only if you get caught,” he said with a wink.

“That’s still cheating,” Emma grumbled even as she bit back a laugh. Killian shrugged unapologetically. 

Emma felt herself smile in response and immediately knew it was time to leave. “Well,” she said standing, “I should go visit with the other patients." 

She started to walk out of the room without waiting for a response when his voice stopped her. 

"Love, wait!”

 She stopped and turned slowly to face him, hand still on the door. 

Any earlier bravado was gone as he scratched behind his ear and spoke haltingly “Will you – do you think that you’ll come back again?" 

He looked so damn nervous and that it was all Emma could do to refrain from making promises she knew she would never be able to keep. So she smiled a little shyly and nodded, unable to miss the way his face lit up at her response before she fled to the safety of Granny’s room. It wasn’t until almost twenty minutes later when Granny asked her what was so funny that she realized she was still smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are any mistakes, I quick posted this on my lunch break. Also I’ve got the rest written so I’ll just have to edit that and probably post it tomorrow. Anyway thanks for reading and any feedback is always appreciated!

She stayed at the Nolans’ house that night and again every night that week. She had clothes in the dresser drawers and a toothbrush in the holder, and when she woke up the Friday morning, a bottle of prenatal vitamins was handed to her without comment along with breakfast. 

Over the course of the following month she fell into a sort of routine, Emma helped wash up the dishes  or tidy the house since she wanted to feel useful and didn’t want to kill them with her cooking. They’d walk to work together in the mornings, or take David’s truck if the weather was too cold. Her morning sickness wasn’t quite as frequent. And she found herself splitting most of her time volunteering between Killian and Granny, and for the first time in a really long time her smiles seemed to come easy and her laughter rang true - but she couldn’t help wonder how long it would last. 

She had a bit of a bump now, but her candy striper uniform was loose fitting enough that it wasn’t noticeable yet. And while David and Mary Margaret forced her to doctor’s appointments, they had mostly steered clear from that conversation. Emma was decidedly grateful that they hadn’t brought up what would happen after the baby was born - because she honestly had no idea. She wanted the baby,  _god_ she wanted him more than anything, but she also wanted to give him - or her their best chance and that certainly wasn’t with her. Sure she wasn’t homeless at the moment, but that was just until Mary Margaret and David’s charity ran out, then where would she be? A homeless single mother with a criminal record, that’s where. Just thinking about it made her feel sick - so it was a good thing she didn’t think about it. 

Killian was getting better slowly but surely, and now that he was well enough to walk if he could lean on Emma or one of the nurses for support he was desperately trying to convince Emma to help him sneak into the kitchens. It was supposedly for more food but Emma couldn’t help wondering if it was just a ploy to end his boredom. While she was more than willing to help him sneak around the hospital, she had determinedly avoided eating with any of the patients since her first week and she was not about to go waltzing into the kitchens. She, Killian and Granny were playing a card game that Emma only half understood when he brought up the idea again. 

“Come on Swan, if I win this hand we go to the kitchens on an adventure,” he said just as Granny let out a jubilant laugh and laid down the winning hand - again.

 "Guess you’ll have to find another way to convince her, Jones" Granny said with a smile as she collected the cards to deal again. 

Before Killian could respond a nurse came in and interrupted them as Granny shuffled the next hand. “Lunch time,” he said gruffly, moving to help Killian up from his chair. 

“Well,” Emma said standing, “I take it that’s my cue to leave.” She never stayed for meals. She would go find Mary Margaret and help her with some mind numbing task in the main part of the hospital like usual and return only when she was sure they’d be done eating. 

“Nonsense,” Granny said, grabbing Emma’s hand and using it as leverage to stand. “You’ll do no such thing,” she said in a voice that brokered no arguments. 

Emma didn’t want to call attention to the fact that she wouldn’t eat with them, and figured she should be okay anyway because she hadn’t had morning sickness in days. And apparently she was an idiot because she’d only helped Granny halfway to the dining hall when the pungent meaty smell wafting down the hallway began to make her gag. She tried to take deep breaths through her open mouth and ignore the smell as thick saliva filled her mouth. She swallowed thickly twice before she dropped Granny’s arm (praying the woman wouldn’t fall without her support) and dashed to the nearest restroom. Once she was done puking her guts out, and dry heaving when there was nothing left, she rinsed her mouth out and popped in a mint. Taking a fortifying breath she headed back into the hall - and directly into Killian nearly knocking off balance. She grabbed his arms instinctively to keep him from falling over, dropping her hands the instant he was steady. 

“Are you - ” he scratched behind his ear uncomfortably, “I mean - er" 

"He is trying to ask is if you’re pregnant honey - though why he’s asking I don’t know, it’s fairly obvious now that I’m thinking on it.” Subtly was most definitely not Granny’s specialty. 

“I’m not - ” Emma’s hand whipped up to cover her mouth as she fought another wave of nausea. From the knowing look in Granny’s eye she knew there was no point in denying it. 

“How far along are you?” Granny asked, “You better be taking care of yourself,” she wagged her finger at Emma as she spoke. 

Emma took a deep calming breath and tried to avoid Killian’s wide eyed gaze, “about twelve weeks, and yeah I am." 

"Good,” Granny said with a nod, “I expect to see you after lunch missy, no running off now alright?" 

Emma saluted her mockingly with a smile. 

"You there - Leroy,” she said calling the attention of the nurse that had been helping Killian, “help an old woman to the cafeteria. You coming Killian?" 

"I’m not feeling quite so hungry after all Granny,” he said, eyes remaining focused on Emma, “you go on ahead without me." 

Granny gave a long suffering sigh and with Leroy’s help continued her trek to the cafeteria. 

Emma started to walk away, hoping to find Mary Margaret and have an excuse to be busy in other parts of the hospital for the afternoon. Unfortunately, Killian seemed to have other plans. "Help me to my room, will you Swan?" 

She hesitated, she really didn’t want to walk him back and have him judge her for being so young and pregnant and  _alone,_ but seeing as he couldn’t walk more than a half dozen steps on his own Emma didn’t really have any choice. The walk to his room was silent - or at least as silent as a hospital can be with constant blip and hum of machines. She briefly contemplated dropping him off at the door and ducking out of the ward, but his soft -  _I’ll just come after you and end up hurting myself_ \- made her decide against it. Killian seemed genuinely surprised when she plopped down in the chair rather than make a hasty exit. 

"So you’re clearly dying to ask me about it,” Emma said, shifting back in her seat and trying to appear unconcerned.  

He opened his mouth to speak then closed it a few times like a gaping fish before he finally spoke. “It was the anniversary of my brother’s death,” his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and Emma stared at him in surprise.

 Even though she’d been spending time with him nearly every day she was at the hospital they had never really shared anything that mattered, and she had to admit she was kind of confused as to where this conversation was headed.

 "I had been drinking. I should’ve called a cab home but I didn’t want to leave my bike at the bar.“ He shook his head and rubbed at the bandage covering the stump where his left hand should be. "Anyway, I got into an accident.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter - as if that one split second decision didn’t change his entire life. “I got banged up pretty bad, lost my hand - obviously and as I’m sure you know it’s taking months for me to walk on my own again and finally leave this place." 

Emma couldn’t meet his gaze, eyes darting about the room before settling on her lap. "Why are you telling me this?" 

Killian shifted closer to the edge of the bed. "Well love, I’d like to think that the two of us have become some sort of friends over the past few weeks” Emma looked up at that and got trapped in his penetrating gaze “and if I ever expect you to share anything of your own life - it’s not exactly fair that I don’t share anything of mine. Not that you have to share anything, but I guess,” he shrugged and looked away from her, “I don’t know - I guess I just wanted you to know." 

The shyness and vulnerability was uncharacteristic and Emma wasn’t sure what to make of it. She felt an unfamiliar urge to reciprocate but not - not something big - not something about Neal, or the baby. "I’m an orphan,” she finally said with a falsely nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. 

“Looks like we’ve got more in common than you thought love,” he said with a small smile, “I’m an orphan too." 

His grin was soft and genuine and Emma couldn’t stop the flicker of a smile from appearing on her own face in return. 

* * *

Over the following weeks Killian seemed to randomly just drop in nuggets of information here and there. Sometimes it was something huge like him saying  _My brother was murdered_  as they walked through the hospital to stretch his legs. Or just some little piece of himself he broke off and presented to her like it wasn’t the gift it was  _green is my favorite color_ as he beat her - yet again at the game of dice and _my parents were sailors and I long to return to the sea one day_ as she and Killian held the turquoise blue yarn for Granny as she knitted an extraordinarily long scarf _._

And even more surprising then this man sharing little and not so little pieces of himself with her was the fact that Emma found herself sharing things right back.  _I was in 23 foster homes over the course of 17 years_ she’d said as they watched Annie on the old television set he was able to sweet talk one of the nurses into putting in his room _. I’m more of onion rings over french fries kind of girl_ she’d said as they shared their first meal together once she was past the point of throwing up directly after every meal _._

The scariest part of opening up to Killian bit by bit wasn’t the fact that he knew more about her than almost anyone else - which granted, was scary too - but it was the fact that when David not so subtly began talking about repainting the small space extra space off of Emma’s room as a nursery, amidst her freaking out all she wanted to do was confide in Killian. 

So of course she didn’t tell him for three days, instead sitting in anguish and fighting the almost overpowering urge to run - to run from this hospital and the broken man with piercing gaze, to run from the husband and wife who were what she had wished  _so_ hard for all her life - who’d taken her in and treated her like she  _mattered_ , to run from this town and the people in it who smiled and waved when they walked past that nice girl volunteering at the hospital and staying with the Nolans. 

This wasn’t her choice, none of it was her choice she didn’t deserve praise for ‘volunteering’ at the hospital every day of the week when the court was mandating she be there. She didn’t deserve smiles and kindness from strangers who knew the couple she was leeching off of.  _God_  the pressures of this life that wasn’t hers were pressing in on her and it felt like she’d explode. 

And it wasn’t that she was avoiding Granny and Killian again because she wasn’t - at least she wasn’t on purpose but she didn’t want to see their kind eyes and knowing smiles - not when she didn’t deserve it - any of it. She was a single, pregnant, would-be homeless, unemployed convict and  _god_  she would just about die when the other shoe dropped. So she sat and played a mind numbing game with a non verbal patient - a man who wouldn’t be able to ask her why her eyes were glassy or her hands shook as she moved the marbles around the board.

But hiding out only worked for just so long, and apparently hiding out would stop working for Emma one hour before the end her shift three days after the paint debacle, when Killian had entered the rec room leaning heavily on the arm of Nurse Greene. The nurse didn’t seem to mind holding him up at all with her arm wrapped around his waist and his slung over her shoulders and Emma felt - she felt something at that, she just wasn’t sure what.

 "Swan,” he said as soon as he spotted her, “come have a seat with me." 

Emma wanted to steer clear for the sole reason that she wanted to talk to him so badly - but her excuse for not going to sit with him evaporated as the patient she was with smiled at her and began picking up their game. So with a heavy sigh and a little wave Emma walked over to where Killian was settling in to one of the plush arm chairs next to the bookshelf and Nurse Greene was doting on him - rather unnecessarily in Emma’s opinion. 

Only once the nurse left and Emma settled into the couch opposite him did Killian speak. "So what’s wrong Emma?" 

Emma had hoped that she could avoid any deep conversations today, but apparently Killian had other plans - that didn’t mean Emma had to play along though. 

"Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired,” she said working hard to hold his gaze and remain unflinching. 

But she really wanted to tell him and he clearly wasn’t buying her whole everything is fine act and fine she was a weak human being and she needed to confide in someone and she definitely would rather have a conversation with someone who wasn’t conspiring with Mary Margaret (like that traitor Granny) and everything just came spilling out of her. 

“When David came home from the hospital the other day he was talking about painting this little, like, side room thingy off my room for the baby to make it a nursery and that we better get started painting it soon since the fumes need to be completely gone before the baby comes and that I could sleep on the air mattress in the living room while they paint so I don’t have to smell it either and Mary Margaret was nodding along and - ” Emma huffed a deep breath and stopped speaking - only now realizing that she hadn’t paused once to breathe during her entire speech. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Killian asked softly. 

Emma shrugged. “It’s just they’re planning so far ahead, you know?” she said, “ who knows where I’ll be once that,” she gestured at her stomach vaguely, “happens." 

"Well seeing as your community service is mandated at this hospital,” Killian said with a faint smile, “I’d hazard a guess that you’ll be here." 

Emma sighed and kicked her boots against the leg of the chair making a small thunk sound. She focused on the noise a moment and kept her gaze averted as she tried to figure out how to explain  _why_ it was so bad that the Nolans were starting to plan for a future - one that included her. "You know what I mean Killian,” she said finally. “How long can I stay with the Nolans? How long can I expect their charity to extend? I can’t plan that far ahead and assume I’ll still be with them - that they’ll still want me there." 

Killian’s gaze was piercing as she met his eyes. "Why not have hope that things will work out this time?” He asked softly. 

“Hope? Seriously?” Emma scoffed, “since when did you join Mary Margaret on the hope train?" 

The look in his eyes was far too sincere and serious for Emma’s liking. She looked away towards the books on the shelf as he spoke. "I used to have no hope for a better future; I thought that I could never be happy again - that is until I met you." 

Emma whipped her head back to him and was surprised by the sincerity there. He ducked his head down when she met his gaze and Emma tried to tamp down the butterflies taking flight in her stomach. 

Emma opened and closed her mouth, unable to come up with a response. 

He reached up behind his ear with his missing hand and pulled it back, looking at it blankly for a moment before speaking. "I guess what I’m trying to say is that Mary Margaret and David are good people and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but all this talk is their way of trying to keep you around - not scare you off." 

"What do you mean?” Emma asked shifting in her seat. 

“I mean that on the shifts they’re working that you aren’t all they seem to be able to talk about is Emma this, and the baby that. They’re happy you’re with them Swan." 

Emma had to wonder at that - could they truly be happy she was taking up their space and eating their food and wasting their time? Was  _she_  even happy there? But then she thought back to this past weekend where David insisted she try her hands at making pancakes. She’d done okay at first and she’d foolishly tried flipping the pan - there was batter everywhere - the floor, the stove, the counter and Emma thought there even might have been some on the ceiling. The pancakes themselves were a little bit burnt, though the center was kind of sticky and she wasn’t even sure how she managed that - but Mary Margaret had eaten all of hers and David had even gone for seconds even though Emma had been unable to stomach more than half of hers - even with it doused in whipped cream. Emma didn’t even notice she was smiling at the memory at first not until Killian smiled a little bit knowingly in return - and okay maybe the three of them were happy together after all. 

It was in that moment that she decided that she would stay with Mary Margaret and David - who had basically said that she could live with them until her kid was having kids of its own in not so many words - and that she was going to keep the baby. Because she  _wanted_  the baby that was never the question, the only reason she would’ve given him up for adoption was because she was all alone and homeless and jobless and she’d want her baby to have his best chance - and for the first time since she found out she was pregnant she thought that maybe, just maybe his best chance would be with her. 

And it was as if now that Emma had decided to keep him, her baby decided to make his presence known. The following afternoon as Emma sat holding yarn for Granny and Killian regaled them with a tale from his adventurous past (where he stole a ship from port and made it halfway down the coast before getting caught- and Emma had to wonder how many of his stories were real but she laughed all the same) she felt a very definite kick. She thought she’d been feeling it for a couple weeks though she couldn’t be sure, but there was no mistaking it now and Emma gasped interrupting Killian’s story. 

She reached and grabbed Killian’s hand pulling it to her belly. "Err,” he said eloquently for a moment while she waited for the baby to kick again. 

“Say something again,” Emma demanded. 

“Love, what’re you doing?” Killian asked, fingers twitching against the pink and white fabric stretched taut against her growing belly. 

His question answered itself a moment later when the baby kicked again. 

“Did you feel that,” Emma asked in wonder, though one glance at his face answered her question. His eyes were wide in awe and a broad smile broke out across his face as he nodded. 

“Hello there little one,” he said softly and the baby gave another definitive little kick. He looked up at her again with a smile in his eyes and Emma felt like she might cry or something equally as embarrassing so she spoke instead. 

“It’s like he’s kicking each time you say something; he must not believe your stories either,” she was kind of hoping for a laugh or an indignant eyebrow raise, but he just kept smiling at her like she was the world and Emma’s nerves started to kick in and only then did she realize that she still had her hand clasped firmly over his.


	4. Chapter 4

Almost two weeks later Emma was helping out in the laundry room while Killian was in physical therapy and Granny napped when Mary Margaret bombarded her. 

“Emma!” she called excitedly, startling the two other maids in the room. “Killian passed his physical therapy test and is going to be released tomorrow,” she said with a broad grin. 

Emma’s stomach dropped. “What?” she asked dumbly. 

“Killian’s being released,” Mary Margaret repeated happily, “we’re throwing an impromptu party for him in the long term ward in half an hour,” and with that she was gone from the room, flitting to go tell others Emma presumed. 

Emma slumped against the wash bin she was standing next to. She couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t more excited at the news - she should be happy for him, getting his life back and back on his feet - literally. 

“Are you alright,” one of the maids - Ashley - Emma thought her name was, asked. 

Emma nodded minutely. The other woman put down the sheet she was folding and walked towards Emma. “You’re the candy striper staying with the Nolans, right?" 

Emma turned her gaze to the girl who was not much older than her expecting to see pity, or accusation in her eyes but when she saw neither she nodded again before turning back to the gowns she had been folding. 

"I used to stay with them too you know. Mary Margaret actually got me this job.”  Emma looked up in surprise. Ashley smiled softly at her. “You aren’t the first stray they’ve taken in.”

“Did they kick you out?” Emma asked bluntly because she had to know, she couldn’t live waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Ashley laughed, “no nothing like that. My stepmother on the other hand … she kicked me out when she found out I was pregnant a couple years ago. I was still in highschool had no place to go - Mary Margaret used to be a school teacher - I don’t know if you know that." 

"Yeah,” Emma said, voice hoarse, “she’s mentioned something about that." 

"Well anyway I had her as a teacher like forever ago. She was here in the hospital when I was at one of my first ultrasound appointments and she remembered me from when she taught - knew what a horrible person my stepmother was and offered to help. Long story short she and David helped me get back on my feet, they would have let me stay with them forever I’m pretty sure, but Sean - my husband - got out from under his controlling father’s thumb and we got married and got our lives together." 

"Why are you telling me all this?” Emma asked uncertainly, no longer even bothering to pretend she was folding laundry. 

 "I can’t presume to know what you’re going through or how you feel,“ Ashley reached out a gentle hand and placed it on Emma’s arm. "but I know how I felt in your situation and I was constantly waiting for the other shoe to shatter,” Emma wasn’t sure that was the right expression but let the girl continue, “I’m just saying that Mary Margaret and David are good people - Killian too and letting someone care about you isn’t a bad thing - it doesn’t make you weak." 

Emma didn’t know what to say to that - and the fact that someone she’d only talked to briefly included Killian in the people that care about Emma category scared the crap out of her. Sure Ashley was alone and young when she was pregnant too, but it wasn’t the same as Emma - Emma was alone her whole life she didn’t need anyone - and lucky for Emma her skill with telling if someone was lying didn’t tend to work on herself. 

She forced a smile and thanked Ashley before fleeing to stairwell E between the basement and 1st floor where there was a slightly creepy secluded nook under the staircase that she could easily hide out in for a little while - her shift was almost over anyway. As she sat on the slightly grimy floor beneath the stairs, she felt a bit like Harry Potter tucked away in his cupboard for one brief moment.

 Her mind kept wandering to Killian no matter how firmly she tried to avoid thinking about him. She really didn’t want to examine too closely why the thought of him leaving the hospital tomorrow made her stomach churn unpleasantly. But  _god_ he was going to leave just like everyone else in her life, and without being trapped in the hospital he probably would’ve never given her the time of day in the first place _._

Emma unclenched her fingers, leaving little white half moons dotting her palms. She groaned and leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes. 

"I can’t say that looks too comfortable, love." 

Emma snapped open her eyes to see Killian ducking beneath the stairs, albeit clumsily, before plopping down on the ground next to her. 

"Don’t you have a party to be attending?” she asked bitterly - and why was she being bitter she had no right to be pissed at him but here she was acting as though he’d betrayed her by  _not_  becoming an invalid for the rest of his life. 

“Don’t you?” he shot back. 

Emma shrugged and tucked her knees up under her as close as she could with her protruding belly. “ _I’m_  not the guest of honor."  _God_ why did she have to sound so pissy - he was missing his party to come seek her out - which come to think of it  _why_   _was he missing his party to find her_  - and she was being mean to him. 

He smiled at her and nudged her shoulder with his. "Eh, why bother with a party when the one person I actually want to see isn’t there." 

He ducked his head a bit, cheeks tinged with pink as he met her gaze. Emma broke contact first and looked down at her hands.  

"Plus,” he said, clearly trying to break the strained silence that had fallen between them, “I have to give you your gift." 

Emma looked at him quizzically. "It’s your party - why should you be giving me a gift." 

With some effort Killian stood and held out his hand to her. "Just humor me, Swan." 

Emma eyed his hand for a moment before grasping it and using it as leverage to pull herself up (and his physical therapy must be working because he barely even swayed under the strain). Once she was standing she was going to pull her hand out of Killian’s - she really was, but he pulled her along to follow him and even though her heart was pounding loudly and she was half certain he could feel it where there palms met - she didn’t let go. 

When they got to the long term ward Emma could hear the party goers in the rec room which seemed to be in full swing - even with the guest of honor missing. Killian was still leading Emma towards his room when David rounded the corner and suddenly Emma found herself being pulled down to hide beneath the circulation desk as the nurse passed by. Laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation threatened to bubble up and she pressed the fingers of her free hand to her lips to hold it back. She dropped her hand once David walked by, letting out a little sigh in relief. 

Emma’s palm felt slick in Killian’s and she hoped he couldn’t hear the catch in her breath when he turned to face her. Emma tried to take a deep breath to calm her racing heart, but that may have been a mistake because she just inhaled him and their breath was mingling and they were so close together and she really really needed to remember why she was supposed to be mad at him but with his gaze steady on her and his hand wrapped around her fingers she couldn’t seem to remember. They heard footsteps again a moment later and the spell was broken. 

"Run,” Killian whispered dramatically as they both hurried - as much as a very pregnant woman and still not completely recovered man could - to his room. 

Once there Killian dropped her hand and quickly shut the door. She took a seat breathlessly as he rummaged around in the drawers beside his bed. 

“Care to explain why you were going to miss my going away party, Swan?” he asked as he rummaged around in the drawers beside his bed. 

Emma shrugged even though his back was to her, unwilling to admit - even to herself - why she was upset with him for getting better. 

After a moment he straightened up and turned to look at her, “is it - was it because you don’t want me to leave?” he asked haltingly, as if even the thought was presumptuous. 

“I just,” Emma shrugged again, feigning nonchalance. “I mean without you here who is going to annoy me all day?" 

"I’m sure I can convince Granny to bear that cross,” he said with a smile that she didn’t return. 

“Hey,” Killian said sitting down on the edge of the bed closest to Emma’s chair, “it’s not -” he cleared his throat, “it’s not like we won’t still see each other after I leave the hospital." 

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah okay - when you aren’t bed ridden why would you want to hang out with a pregnant ex-con who would be homeless if it weren’t for the charity of others,” Emma was revealing too much of herself, and kind of yelling if she was being honest about it but she couldn’t seem to stop. 

A smile bloomed on his face as he stood, “because she’s smart and a little bit crazy and chews with her mouth open, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her drool when she fell asleep on me during the Wizard of Oz, she can kick my ass at darts, and I do fancy her from time to time when she’s not yelling at me." 

Emma sucked in a breath unsure what to say. She felt too exposed and at the same time she couldn’t help the fluttering feeling taking flight low in her belly. 

 "I can tell you still don’t exactly believe me.” He stood up and kind of huffed a self-deprecating laugh, “close your eyes and hold out your hands,” he said.  

Emma furrowed her brow and kept her eyes open. “Why?” she asked. 

He groaned good-naturedly, “just do it, love." 

Emma rolled her eyes but obliged and after a moment felt something soft placed gently on her outstretched fingers.

 "Okay open,” he said. 

Killian stood hovering nervously, shifting from foot to foot. Emma broke her gaze away from him to glance down at the item in her hands and her heart skipped a beat. It was a baby blanket with blue sail boats on it. 

“You made this?” Emma asked with no small amount of wonder. The knitting was kind of loose at the beginning and got a little too tight near the center but it was perfect and she felt her breath catch in her throat as she looked up at him in wonder. 

Killian nodded shyly before ducking his head. “Granny showed me how to do it, she helped a bit and I know the knitting is rather sloppy,” he scratched behind his ear and met her gaze once more, “She reminded me of that more than once - but knitting is surprisingly hard especially with only one hand, so I had to get creative and I wanted to give it to you before I’m released from the hospital - because the baby is going to be cold since he’ll be born at the tail end of winter and he should have a big blanket and I know that Mary Margaret and David probably already bought a bunch of stuff, but I want the baby to have something made for him and even though Granny is knitting hats and booties I want the baby to have something made for him from - from me - ” he cut off abruptly and gave her a small shy smile. “anyway I’ll stop rambling now." 

Emma’s mind was reeling. This wasn’t something that Killian slabbed together in twenty minutes - this wasn’t something that he started last week or last month even. It was sloppy and the one side was a bit longer than the other and a couple of the sail boats looked a little bit like triangular blobs and she’d never seen anything as beautiful in her life. 

Emma stood and walked around the bed to stand before him. His eyes were wide and his hand fidgeted nervously at his side, but he stayed his ground. 

"You really are sticking around?” she asked, voice small and full of something that suspiciously felt a lot like hope.

He nodded once, the weight of his answer not lost on either of them, “Love, I won’t leave unless you force me away." 

Emma studied him for a long moment, and when she saw nothing but truth written in every line of his face she smiled slow and sweet. 

"Thank you, Killian,” she whispered before leaning in slowly and tentatively brushing her lips against his. 

The kiss was soft and sweet and sure and when she finally broke away she felt light headed and grounded at the exact same time and she couldn’t bite back the smile threatening to break free  - so she didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, we've reached the end! Thanks for reading, liking, and commenting it really makes my day :)


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